


No Good Deed

by ExpositionFairy



Series: Symbiosis [4]
Category: Tron (Movies), Tron - All Media Types, Tron: Legacy (2010)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-05
Updated: 2012-02-05
Packaged: 2017-10-30 15:16:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/333131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ExpositionFairy/pseuds/ExpositionFairy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Before Flynn can remove himself from the equation, there's one last thing he has to do.  </p>
<p>(Now includes art by the amazing Winzler!)</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Good Deed

**Author's Note:**

> Lyrics quoted are "No Good Deed" from the musical adaptation of Gregory Maguire's _Wicked_ , with one small paraphrase.

_One question haunts and hurts, too much, too much to mention_  
 _Was I really seeking good, or just seeking attention?_  
 _Is that all good deeds are when looked at with an ice-cold eye?_  
 _If that’s all good deeds are, maybe that’s the reason why…_

  
Coming here is a risk.  
  
He’s taken all the precautions he can think of to take: parked his ‘cycle well outside the edge of the city, rezzed up a loose cloak with a hood that obscures his face and false circuits that glow the airport-landing-strip blue of just another Basic, suppressed his own energy signature as best he can.  He's even made sure to come on a night when the Games are being held, as much as it sickens him ( _how many of my people are in there tonight_ , he wonders, _being forced to tear each other apart in front of an audience_ ), knowing that much of downtown will be largely empty because of it.   Even so, he’s all too aware it’s not really enough.  He can feel Clu at the back of his mind, their link burning all the brighter for the increased proximity, and Flynn can only hope he’ll remain distracted enough by the Games to let him slip past unnoticed.  
  
He’s been out to the ruins of Bostrum, its soft green light long since burned out, ugly rotten gouges in its walls where the virus had eaten away at them like acid.  He’s still got the last remaining shards of Arjia’s delicate glass towers back at his safehouse in  the Outlands.  There’s only one place left to visit, one memory left to honor, and as far as Flynn’s concerned it’s worth every risk he’s taking to see it done, even as it shreds his heart.  
  
So thinking, he rounds the corner and steps into the three-way intersection.  
  
It’s like taking a sledgehammer straight to the chest, and all the cycles that have passed since that awful day have done nothing to soften the blow.  Flynn has to fight back a surge of nausea as he remembers how _confident_ he was as he turned this same corner with Tron that day--confident that his new System Monitor would make Tron’s job easier and that Radia would be able to help take some of the pressure off Clu and that everything was going to be okay.  
  
 _“Will you stop worrying so much, Tron?  Everything’s fine.  Everything is under control.”_  
  
He kneels in the center of the intersection, swallowing against the nausea and the iron lump in his throat, and whispers “…greetings, Program.”  
  
He tries to continue, but he’s vapor-locked.  Night on night for cycles Flynn’s thought about what he’d say, and now it all seems so hollow.  But he’s got to say _something_ , dammit, he owes Tron that much, and so he simply murmurs the first words that come.  
  
“…when we first met, you asked me if everything I did was according to a plan.  You were so sure that that must be the way it was for Users, and I just…laughed.  Laughed and tossed off some line about how you just gotta go with the flow, man, keep doing what you’re doing even if it seems crazy, all that bullshit.  And it was true, too, I didn’t know what the fuck I was doing.  I never did.”  He runs a hand roughly through his hair, knocking his hood back some, but he doesn’t care.  “ _You_ did, though.  You always knew what you were about, and yet for some goddamn reason you followed me anyway.  And I…I let you down.”  
  
Flynn’s eyes are burning now, and it’s getting harder and harder to breathe, but he rambles on anyway, powerless to stop the flow of words now that they’ve started.  “I wish you were here, man.  You have no idea how much.  I failed you all…you and Alan and my family and Clu and…”  He chokes on a sob.  “…you _died_ for me, man, and it wasn’t worth it.  _I_ wasn’t worth it.  And I’m sorry, man.”    
  
“I’m so fucking sorry.”  
  
He can’t stay any longer.  Already he’s dangerously close to losing his hold on the necessary suppression of his energy, and if that happens Clu will zero in on him in an instant.  He takes a shuddering breath and gets back to his feet to begin the long trek back out to his lightcycle, sticking to back ways and nodding dumbly to any passerby he happens to encounter.  No-one marks him, and the part of Flynn that’s still aware of his surroundings is distantly grateful for that.  
  
He manages to make it all the way to the bike before collapsing against it, the sobs racking his body hard enough to physically hurt, burying his face in his hands.

  
  
_Let all be agreed, I’m wicked, through and through_  
 _Since I could not succeed, my friends, in saving you_  
 _I promise no good deed will I attempt to do again, ever again…_  
 _No good deed will I do again_

**Author's Note:**

>   
> 
> 
> Illustration by Winzler.


End file.
